Piggyback
by Sam.J.Eller
Summary: Dean looks after a hurt and sleep-deprived Sam. "My little brother was a lot of things, but a burden sure as hell wasn't one of them." Teenchester. Hurt/Exhausted/Sam and Protective/Caring/Dean. One-shot.


Note: So I saw this picture (the one being used as the cover photo) and it inspired me to write this story. The drawing is done by a fantastic artist who's link I posted in my profile, because it won't let me post it here. And thanks again** Kayaczek **for letting me utilize your fantastic art. I am so jealous of all you artists out there and I hope you guys know how inspiring your art really is!

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><p>"Come on Sammy, we've been here forever!" I complained, throwing my head back over the chair in exasperation.<p>

"Nobody asked you to come." Sam mumbled, not bothering to remove his nose from the pages of one of the four books that were currently scattered across the table.

"I probably wouldn't have if I'd known you planned on spending the night here." I sulked, gazing around in disgust at the stuffy environment, big dusty books stacked from the floor to the ceiling…god I hate libraries.

Sam did not grace my whining with a verbal response; he simply rolled his eyes in that dramatic way that all teenagers seem to have mastered.

I sighed loudly as I leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and propped my feet up on the edge of the table. I glared across the room at the crusty old librarian, daring her to say something. I smirked at the angry look she sent me and directed my gaze back at my little brother.

The kid was completely enthralled in whatever the hell it was that he was reading.

What a dork.

My little brother had always had a love for books, school, and learning in general, but things were starting to get a little out of hand. Sam had come to the library right after dinner, which was three hours ago. Three hours at the library…what the hell? I was starting to wonder where I went wrong with this kid when I noticed that his eyes were closed and his head was supported completely by his hand.

I dropped my feet from the table, returning all four legs of my chair to the ground.

"Sammy?" I called gently; watching the teen's eyes fly open and his head pop up as he was startled out of sleep.

Sam looked over at me, blinking rapidly.

"I think we better call it a night little brother, before you end up drooling all over your book." I snickered.

"I can't, not yet Dean. I got to finish this research so that I can write my essay." My little brother stated miserably.

"When's it due?"

"Tomorrow."

"Dude there's no way you can get this all done tonight, it's already nine."

"I have to!" Sam announced earnestly, looking back down at the novel.

I shook my head at my brother's stubbornness.

"You can go Dean. You don't have to wait here with me. I can walk back when I'm done." Sam announced, glancing over at me. Though I don't understand how he could possibly see me through all that hair.

"Nah, I can hang around for another hour." I said, knowing that this stuffy building was closing up at ten.

"You don't have to." Sam replied earnestly.

"I know, but it's not like I have anything better to do." I shrugged.

Sam seemed to accept my excuse and turned his attention back towards his school work.

The truth was I could think of about a hundred things that were better than hanging out in a library all night. I just didn't want Sam walking home alone.

Dad had left for a hunt this morning, and after spending twenty minutes trying and failing to get his beat-down truck to start, he gave up and took the Impala, which left me and Sammy without a functioning vehicle.

I had spent the day working on the truck, hoping to get it running, but hadn't had any luck. I gave up working on that hunk of junk an hour ago and walked over to the library to hopefully drag my baby brother back to the motel. It's not that Sam wasn't old enough to walk across town on his own; it was just that this particular town was one of the rougher ones and I wasn't thrilled at the idea of my little brother walking through it late at night.

I would rather spend a couple hours hanging out in the library then pacing around the motel room worrying about my baby brother and whether or not the kid got jumped on his walk home.

Some people might see my constant concern as overbearing…but those people can screw off, because it's not like I'm being unreasonable. Sam was born a trouble magnet; the kid didn't ask for it or anything…trouble just sort of followed him around. Therefore, leaving him to walk across town, after dark, alone seemed like an unwise decision.

I watched as my little brother's eyes began to droop, his head leaning more and more heavily on his hand, propped up by his elbow.

The kid was wiped out. It was hardly a surprise. We had spent the last two nights out hunting. By the time we got back to the motel the sun was coming up and while Dad and I had the freedom to fall into bed and spend a good chunk of the day catching up on sleep, Sammy had gone off to school.

I had tried both yesterday and today to get the kid to stay home and rest, but the stubborn little shit had been adamant each morning, insisting that he had important classes he couldn't miss. Other than the few hours of shuteye he managed to catch before we went out hunting, Sam really hadn't gotten any sleep in the last two days.

As If to prove my point, Sam's head dropped, his elbow sliding out from underneath him as he nodded himself awake.

"Sam." I said, waiting for two tired hazel eyes to find mine before I continued speaking.

"You need to get some rest buddy."

"I can't." Sam declared, shaking his head vigorously.

"Dude you can't even keep your eyes open long enough to read this. You've been on the same page for the past fifteen minutes." I pointed out.

"I'm alright." Sam dismissed, looking lazily around the library.

Before I could point out what complete bullshit that was, Sam was pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. I watched as my brother's balance faltered, causing me to rise immediately and grip the teen's arm.

"Whoah, steady there kiddo."

Sam found his balance, but I couldn't help but notice one of his legs seemed to be supporting him more than the other.

"Your ankle still bothering you?" I asked, glancing down to try and get a glimpse of it.

"Little sore." Sam shrugged.

"Let me take a look." I said, gently pushing Sam back down into his char.

"No. Wait. Deeeean." The teen whined as he was forced into a seated position.

I ignored the petulant behaviour and squatted down, gently rolling Sam's left pant-leg up and his sock down so I could get a better look.

Sam had rolled his ankle the night before last when we had been running from an extremely pissed off spirit. The kid had insisted that it was feeling fine this morning when he'd walked off to school, but that would hardly be the first time Sam had downplayed an injury.

"Doesn't look too bad. A little bruised, but there isn't any swelling." I assessed, rolling my little brother's jeans back down.

"I know. I said it was sore, that's all." Sam declared impatiently.

"Was it sore this morning?" I questioned, giving the teen an accusing stare. Sam had sworn up and down to me that he didn't need a ride in to school this morning, that his ankle was fine and I should get some rest. I should have known better, should have known the kid wouldn't tell me if he was still hurting, that he wouldn't want to 'bother' me.

Since becoming a teenager Sam had this crazy idea in his head that he was a burden.

Burden. I hated that fucking word.

My little brother was a lot of things, but a burden sure as hell wasn't one of them.

"Sammy?" I ground out, setting his foot back down on the floor and looking up at him from my squatted position.

The young teenager bit his lip nervously, that small action was an answer in itself.

"Why didn't you let me give you a ride?" I asked, rising to my feet and standing before the kid, waiting for an answer.

"You were tired and the school isn't that far from our room…" Sam trailed off, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.

"I don't care if the school is across the street. You should have told me your ankle still hurt. I would have driven you in Sam. It's not a big deal. So next time, you tell me. You got that?"

My little brother nodded, shyly staring up at me under all that hair.

God how this kid was fourteen I didn't understand, those big puppy dog eyes and that young baby face made him look so many years younger. Even though he was growing like a weed, the kid was all skin and bones and he somehow managed to look shorter whenever he wears my hand-me-downs, like he was now. My old sweater draped off Sam the same way my old jeans seemed just a little bit too big for the teenager. As tall as he may be growing, Sam certainly didn't look fourteen years old to me.

"Good, don't forget it."

"I won't." Sam replied softly.

Satisfied by that answer I let the matter drop.

"What are you doing?" I questioned as my little brother stood up again.

"I have to go grab some paper. There's a stack of free paper at the front desk, and I'm almost out." Sam explained, giving me a curious look.

"I'll get it, you just sit down." I ordered, being sure not to sound too demanding.

Sam smirked, his tired face taking on a certain lightness as his dimples made a brief appearance.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just if I had known that a sore ankle was going to get me a maid, I would have played it up a lot sooner."

"Just sit down and read your damn book." I muttered, walking off to the sound of Sam's snickering.

I managed to pry a decent sized stack of lined-paper from the old librarian's wrinkly fingers and was on my way back to inform my little brother that he better wrap it up, because if we weren't out of here in half an hour that miserable woman might come after us.

When I got to the table covered in schoolwork, I smiled. Sam's head was resting on the book, his eyes closed and his breathing steady as he slept.

I leaned down beside him, placing my hand on his arm and giving the kid a gentle shake.

"Sammy. Come on, time to wake-up buddy."

The teenager cracked open his eyelids, lifting his head off the open novel.

"Shit." He cursed quietly, rubbing his eyes and blinking at a rapid-fire pace, trying to wake himself up.

"Alright man, were done here." I said as I began to stack up all the books and papers strewn across the table top.

"No, Dean, I got to finish." Sam whined, but even I could tell that his heart wasn't in it as he did nothing to stop my actions.

"Sam, you're exhausted. You've gotten like four hours of sleep max in the past couple days."

"But the essay is due tomorrow."

"I'll write you a note, or whatever you need."

"What I need is to finish it."

"No little brother, what you need is rest." I insisted, staring into those puppy dog eyes, not failing to notice how they drooped in exhaustion.

Sam frowned, his stubbornness about to show as I could practically see his sleep-deprived mind working to come up with an argument.

"Look man." I started, instinctively brushing Sam's long bangs to the side so I was sure he could see my no-bullshit-expression.

"You worked your ass of, but this is not happening tonight. It can wait another day."

Sam huffed in frustration, rubbing at his eyes as they kept trying to close on him.

"Sam, I'll call the school or write a note, whatever you need me to do. But you need to get some rest." I declared, gentle but stern.

I watched as Sam considered the situation before nodding reluctantly.

"Good. Let's get going." I said, leaving the stacked books on the table, folding up Sam's notes, and sliding them into my jacket pocket.

I watched as Sam stood, making sure he was steady on his feet before making my way to the exit. I could hear the young teenager shuffling behind me as we left the library. The night air was cool, but not cold, refreshing after spending so long shut up in that dusty old building.

I realized exactly how wiped Sam was when I watched him glance form left to right in confusion, seemingly unsure which way to go.

"Come on kiddo." I said, directing him to the right and tugging his sweater sleeve as I headed in that direction.

I kept pace with Sam, which was an extremely slow pace, but I knew the kid was going as fast as he could manage.

After the second stumble I took Sam's right arm and brought it over my shoulder, wrapping my arm across his back. I wasn't entirely sure if it was his ankle or his exhaustion that had him walking so clumsily, but either way the he clearly needed help.

That system worked for a little until my little brother began to fade. His blinking long and slow as his walking became even less coordinated. By the second block I was practically supporting all of Sam's weight, trying to keep him from falling to the ground every time the kid lost his balance.

"Okay this isn't working." I mumbled; the fourth time Sam almost took us both down by tripping over his own feet.

I stopped walking, Sam stumbling at the sudden change.

I shook my head with a grin as I saw my little brother squint at me, attempting to figure what was going on through the fogginess brought on by lack of sleep.

I moved to stand in front of the swaying teenager, ignoring his confused muttering as I grabbed onto his wrists and pulled his arms over my shoulders.

"What doing De?" Sam questioned groggily.

"It's called a piggy-back Sammy. We've done it a hundred times before." I recalled fondly as I crouched down far enough to grab hold of Sam's legs, hoisting him up until I had a firm grip under his knees. His long, lanky limbs made piggy-backing a little trickier than it had been back when he was a little squirt, but he still wasn't much in the weight department.

"Don't need to Dean. I can walk…not a kid." Sam slurred.

His mouth protested, but his body was entirely compliant. His right arm dangling over top of me as his left curved around my chest, coming to rest against my collarbone. I grinned as I felt the weight of Sam's head resting on my left shoulder, his shaggy hair tickling the side of my face.

I walked along the street, my hunter instincts always alert, always scanning for danger, but I couldn't help feel a sense of peace. I could hear my little brother's soft steady breathing in my ear as his dangling legs occasional knocked into mine. There was a comfort in having my baby brother so close, knowing he was safe because I could feel him against me.

Taking care of Sam is what I do, it's who I am.

Protecting him gives me a reason to keep going, a purpose.

Someday I will have to make sure that Sam understands how much I need him, how happy it makes me to look out for him.

"You're never a burden. Get that through your head you little bitch." I muttered as I marched along the sidewalk.

"Jerk." The insult was no more than a quiet sigh, but I heard it as clear as day and a fond smile lit up my face as I glanced over to my left, trying to catch a glimpse of my kid brother.

He looked peaceful.

I smiled, because only Sam could make me feel like this.

Only Sam could make me think a bunch of girly, mushy, sentimental crap.

Only Sam could make my chest ache with emotion.

Only Sam could make me love this much, this strongly.

Only Sam could make everything in the world seem alright.

Only Sam, my Sam, could make me this happy.

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><p>Note: What can I say? A picture is worth a thousand words...or in this case more like three-thousand. Please reviewcomment, it makes me feel better about ignoring my schoolwork. Thanks for reading! - Sam


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